Let Me Help You
by JessieJay13
Summary: "Who conjured the shield? Step forward and take your credit. You will not be harmed for your use of magic, I give you my word." Merlin's eyes flew open. Hoping against hope, Merlin got shakily to his feet and stepped out from behind the pillar.


Merlin hummed tunelessly as he brought Arthur's breakfast, not really caring that he was making a decent amount of noise considering his job was to wake the King up anyway. He dropped the platter of food on the table and went to throw open the curtains, saying loudly "Rise and shine, Lazy Daisy!" The muffled groan and shuffling he heard behind him made him snicker and then reflexively duck as the normal pillow came flying toward his head. Picking the pillow up and tossing it back at Arthur, he set about straightening up the room.

"You know, I really don't see how you manage to make this room a mess overnight. You're supposedly sleeping, and yet everything's strewn around the room again. Do you sleepwalk? 'Cause that's really the only explanation I can think of for th—"

"Merlin. Shut up."

"Right away, Sire."

He continued on with his cleaning and tidying, striking up that humming again that he knew Arthur so hated. Then, when he saw that Arthur still hadn't moved from bed, he rolled his eyes and yanked all the covers off the bed, exposing Arthur to the morning chill in a very sudden fashion. Arthur bolted up, glaring daggers at Merlin, who just smiled cheekily back.

"Oh, Arthur. You're up. Good. You have a council meeting in half an hour, it's about time to get you fed and dressed. Up you get."

Arthur finally allowed Merlin to dress him, grumbling all the while about useless and annoying servants, then sat down to eat while Merlin polished his ceremonial sword for the knighting ceremony later that afternoon. Arthur was halfway through eating his sausages when Merlin felt a strange tug on his magic that nearly made him drop the sword. Arthur gave him a half-inquiring-half-insulting look and went back to his breakfast, but Merlin wasn't focused on him. That sort of a feeling was never a good one. There was someone or something magical nearby, and it was strong. And most likely, it wasn't good. He was glad to be moving when Arthur headed for the door, snapping good-naturedly at him to hurry up and stop lazing.

The trip through the corridors to the council room was uneventful as usual, but Merlin couldn't get rid of the feeling. It made him incredibly jumpy, which he did his best to hide from Arthur. Not that Arthur ever noticed that kind of thing. Self-absorbed prat. But, unobservant as he was, even Arthur couldn't fail to notice what was wrong when they pushed open the unguarded doors to the council rooms.

Someone was sitting on Arthur's throne. Lounging, even. And it wasn't Arthur.

The council members and servants and guards were all lining the walls looking thoroughly terrified. They weren't moving, not even a muscle, except that their eyes were now flicking back and forth between the woman on the throne and their King in terror. When the two men entered the council room, the woman yawned hugely, stretched her arms over her head, and then stood with the grace of a cat, grinning in a way that made Merlin shudder. He could feel her power from where he stood; she was a sorceress, and a powerful one at that.

"King Arthur. About time you joined us. I was getting bored waiting for you," she practically purred at him, her voice low and seductive.

"Who are you, and what have you done to these people?" Arthur demanded, hand on the hilt of his ceremonial sword; he was now really wishing he had thought to bring his normal one. "Release them immediately, sorceress!"

"I will do no such thing," she said simply. "Why would I? They wouldn't make any difference in what's about to occur, and this way keeps them from getting caught in the crossfire. That's what you want, isn't it? For your people to be safe from me and my kind?" Her voice was practically dripping with false sweetness and it sent shivers down Merlin's neck. When Arthur strode forward toward the witch, Merlin slipped behind a pillar halfway down the room so that he had a good view of the witch but was mostly hidden from Arthur's view. He didn't think there was any way this could end well without his interference.

"Release them," Arthur demanded again, now pointing his sword at her chest from a meter away. She laughed, her voice suddenly harsh.

"You think you can defeat me with a mere sword," she scoffed. "I have more power than you could possibly imagine, Arthur Pendragon." She waved her hand and the sword clattered to the ground. Arthur stood his ground, now defenseless and alone against the sorceress. Merlin's heart sped up. He would be forced to act, he knew it. So he was prepared when the sorceress held up her hand and said; "Now I will kill you, Pendragon, for the good of all magic-users." She began speaking in the Ancient Language, but Merlin did not allow her to finish her spell. He held up his own hand and whispered out a short spell.

Immediately a barrier of golden light exploded through the room, filling it from ceiling to floor and wall to wall, separating the witch from the others in the room. Arthur and the witch stared at it in equal shock and confusion before her gaze morphed into one of fury. Immediately she began hurling spells at the shield, throwing fireballs and bolts of light at it, growling and screaming in her rage, but nothing penetrated. Arthur was staring wide-eyed at it, then began looking around the room frantically, looking for the other magic-user, but he couldn't see anyone with glowing eyes. That's when he realized that the people on the edges of the room could move again, the witch's spell having broken when the shield separated her from her victims. They, too, were looking around for the person who cast the shield, but Merlin stayed where he was, hidden from their view behind the pillar.

"Oh, what a hypocrite you are, Arthur Pendragon," the sorceress finally hissed, panting. "You burn my kind at the stake for having our powers and yet you have a pet sorcerer of your own, do you?" Arthur shook his head, looking absolutely bewildered. The witch began pelting the barrier with spells again, but they were weakening. Her strength was waning but her anger did not allow her to stop her rampage. Merlin was sweating, fighting to keep channeling magic into the shield. Finally, the witch collapsed onto her knees, shaking and gasping for breath. Merlin let the shield fall and leaned heavily on the pillow, trying to soothe his own harsh breathing.

The sorceress looked up at Arthur, seeing the barrier now gone, and tried to get to her feet, words of the Ancient Language already on her lips. Merlin immediately raised his hand toward the dropped sword. It flew off the ground without his needed a spell and imbedded itself in the witch's chest. She let out another gurgling scream and fell to the floor, dead.

Silence reigned for several seconds and Merlin took the opportunity to slide down the pillar to sit heavily on the floor, trying to slow his breathing to an acceptable rate. That had been a lot of magic. Small shields directly in front of the caster were hard enough to produce, but a shield that size at that distance for the long and withstanding that much was an astonishing feat, even for him. His hands were shaking as he wiped the sweat from his forehead and breathed slowly and deeply in an attempt to calm his racing heart. He needn't have bothered; his heart nearly stopped entirely when Arthur's voice rang out behind him.

"Who conjured that shield?" he demanded in his most kingly voice. No one answered him, so he continued. "Who conjured it? Step forward and take your credit. You will not be harmed for your use of magic, I give you my word."

Merlin's eyes flew open, though he couldn't remember having closed them, and his heartbeat was soaring again. Was Arthur bluffing? Was he trying to draw the sorcerer out so that he could arrest him? No, surely not. Arthur's word was his bond. His honor meant far too much for him to break his word in such a way. He inched his way sideways to look around the pillar. Arthur was standing looking out at the crowd of people in the room, examining every face intensely, his hands on his hips in a very King-like pose. It may not have been clear to the rest of them, but it was clear to Merlin that he was shaken. But there didn't seem to be any malice or anger in his face, only an intense curiosity, confusion, and even gratitude. And it was this that convinced Merlin to get shakily to his feet and step out from behind the pillar.

At first Arthur didn't notice him. When he did, he glanced his way and turned back to the crowd, still awaiting the reluctant sorcerer. Merlin fought not to roll his eyes at that; even when he confessed, Arthur still dismissed the idea completely. So Merlin took a few steps nearer, coming out into the empty space between Arthur and the rest of the crowd so there could be no doubt about his intentions. Arthur still didn't seem to get the message, but the rest of the people in the room began to shift and mutter in suspicion and surprise and disbelief. Merlin saw out of the corner of his eye that Gaius was staring at him as if he had grown a second head, terror in his face. But still Merlin walked toward Arthur.

Arthur looked at him now, confusion as to Merlin's actions still obvious in his features. Merlin knew he would have to prove it. So, taking a deep breath to steady himself, he held out his hand again and spoke in the language he had never thought he would be able to use in Arthur's presence. The golden shield reappeared behind Arthur and the entire room gasped as one and then fell silent again. Arthur whirled around to stare at the shield for a moment, then whipped back to stare open-mouthed at Merlin, whose eyes were glowing gold. Merlin let the shield drop. He held Arthur's blank, disbelieving stare and felt himself beginning to shake again. Arthur finally looked away and out over the crowd of counselors and advisors and subjects.

"Leave us," he ordered in a bit of a choked voice. The people hesitated to do so, though Merlin wasn't sure what the reason was. Were they afraid to leave their King alone with a confirmed sorcerer? Were they afraid that Arthur would kill Merlin when they left? Were they just curious as to the outcome of what was sure to be a spectacular confrontation? No matter, because Arthur barked the order again and the people began to filter out of the council room. The last to leave were Gwen and Gaius, who both looked pale and scared and worried. Merlin tried to send them a reassuring smile, but he wasn't sure whether or not he succeeded. Eventually, the large doors closed and they were left alone.

Arthur was turned away from Merlin, one hand over his mouth as he struggled to reconcile what he had just seen. Merlin, too, was bombarded with emotions. Suddenly feeling incredibly exhausted, he sank to his knees to stop their shaking. He lowered his eyes from Arthur's back and waited for the yelling and the accusations to begin. But Arthur stayed silent for several more minutes. Merlin didn't say anything. He knew Arthur needed to think this through on his own, and he was rather glad Arthur was taking the time to think instead of just running him through, although that may have had something to do with Arthur's weapon already having been used for that purpose today.

"How long, Merlin?" Arthur's voice was quiet and relatively calm, but Merlin could hear the hurt and the anger simmering beneath the surface and it made him flinch. He didn't answer, though, not completely sure what Arthur was asking. Arthur helpfully clarified. "How long have you been betraying me?" Merlin's head shot up to stare incredulously at Arthur's back.

"Betraying you?" Merlin asked, his indignation and incredulity coloring his tone clearly. "How is saving your life a betrayal?"

"You used magic, Merlin, the one thing I hated most in this world," Arthur spat at him, but he still didn't turn around. "I will ask you one more time. _How long?_"

"My entire life," Merlin answered truthfully. This made Arthur turn. If he was surprised at Merlin's kneeling, he didn't show it. "I was born with it." He scoffed angrily.

"Don't lie to me, Merlin, that's not possible."

"It's not supposed to be, no," he admitted. "But I'm the exception. I'm an oddity among even my own kind. I was born with my eyes glowing gold. I could move objects with my mind before I could talk. I don't always need spells to use my magic, like other magic-users do, I never have. I never studied, Arthur, I never had anyone teach me. I was born with it. I had no choice in this, Arthur, I didn't choose to have magic. I didn't betray you." He was practically begging for Arthur to believe him, to look in his eyes and see the truth of it there, but Arthur was turning away again.

"You've been lying to me, Merlin. Since the very beginning, you've done nothing but lie to me," Arthur said, true anger in his voice now.

"I've protected you," Merlin shot back, feeling anger of his own rear up now. "And do you blame me for not telling you? How could I tell you? You've said it yourself; you hate magic and all who practice it. How could I just come out and tell you that I've had magic my entire life and I used it to save your life? How would you have reacted to that when we met? You would've run me through on the spot!"

"Why did you come to Camelot?" Arthur cut across him. "You're a sorcerer, and you knew magic was banned here. Why did you even leave Ealdor? Magic isn't against the law in Cenred's kingdom, why leave it?"

"I told you before, Arthur, I just didn't fit in there. No one knew about my magic but Will and my mother, but everyone knew I was different. They avoided me, called me strange. And I didn't want to be a farmer. I had all this power and no reason for it. I needed a purpose, some reason for the magic I have. So I came to live with Gaius, hoping I could find something more here than I had there. And I did. I found you, and even though I didn't necessarily _like_ you, I knew I had found my purpose. You were facing threats that you couldn't fight. You were being attacked by magic and you needed magic on your side to counter it. I have dedicated my life to protecting you, Arthur. That's all I've ever done with my magic."

Arthur was staring at him now, confusion, disbelief and skepticism warring for dominance on his face. He was shaking his head slightly, his brow furrowed.

"Why?" he asked. "Why on earth would you want to protect me?"

"What do you mean? Why wouldn't I?" Merlin asked, just as confused.

"I'm a Pendragon!" Arthur shouted. "My father had your kind outlawed, rounded up and slaughtered! I've been taught to persecute magic my entire life! Why would you want to protect someone who would have you killed without a second thought?"

"Because you can change that."

This obviously wasn't the answer Arthur had been expecting. He looked shocked, as if the thought had never even crossed his mind, which it probably hadn't.

"You are not your father, Arthur. You are a good man. Honorable, kind, compassionate, fair, open-minded, reasonable. You have the potential to bring magic back to this land, if I can only convince you that it isn't evil. At least, that's why I began protecting you. But that's not why I do it now." Arthur raised an eyebrow at him. "Now, Arthur, I protect you because I'm your friend. Because I don't want to see you hurt. Because you're a great King. Because I care about you and I would do anything for you. Because I believe in you and what you will do."

"You're not my friend, Merlin. I don't even know you," Arthur growled.

"Yes, you do, Arthur!" Merlin insisted, trying to hide how much these words hurt him. "You do know me, Arthur, and I am your friend. You may not have known all of me, but what you do know is all true. I'm still Merlin. I'm still your bumbling idiot of a servant. The one who smiles too much and hums just to annoy you, the one who's always late with your breakfast, the one who hates hunting for its senselessness, the one who tells you when you're being a prat because everyone else is too afraid to, the one who follows you out into battle and won't listen when you tell him to stay behind, the one who trips over his own feet and complains about your dirty socks, the one who would gladly give his life if it meant you would live. That's still me, Arthur."

Arthur was silent, turned toward the wall with his hand over his mouth again. He couldn't bear to look at Merlin.

"I wanted to tell you," Merlin confessed. "For years I've thought about telling you, but there was always a reason for me not to. It's been killing me to have to hide from you. To have lie to you. To listen to you talk about how magic and all those who practice it are evil. But I couldn't tell you, Arthur. At first it was because you would've killed me, or turned me over to your father to be executed. Later, when I was sure you wouldn't want me to have me killed, I didn't want to make you choose between me and your father. I didn't want to put you in a position where you had to lie to him. I know you loved your father and I didn't want to come between you. When Uther died, your heart had been hardened to magic by Morgana's betrayal and Dragoon's involvement in his death. I knew you would never forgive me if you found out then. Recently, you've been recovering from those things, and I thought about telling you again. But lately what's been stopping me hasn't been fear for my life. More than that, I feared you would reject me. That you would be angry, that you would hate me, that you would be afraid of me. I never wanted you to look at me like you are now. And I didn't want to hurt you like Morgana did. I didn't want you to lose your trust in me."

"How could I possibly trust you, Merlin?" Arthur asked, his voice rough with suppressed emotion. He turned back to face his servant, who was still kneeling at his feet. His eyes were brighter than they usually were and Merlin thought he may have been holding back tears. The thought only pained him more.

"I know you don't feel like you can. I know I've broken your trust, and that kills me. All I've ever wanted is for you to trust me." Merlin himself was fighting back tears now, his throat clenching uncomfortably, but he spoke through it. "And you can. Please, know that, Arthur. You've always been able to trust me, and you always will. I would never do anything to harm you. Everything I have ever done as has been for you and for Camelot."

Merlin fell silent, awaiting Arthur's judgment. He had said all he could think to say in explanation. The minutes dragged on. Eventually, Arthur turned to face him, his face an emotionless mask.

"I thank you for your assistance today, Merlin. And, true to my word, you will not be harmed for your sorcery. However, the law is still the law and I cannot allow you to remain in Camelot." Merlin's eyes widened as his stomach seemed to drop out from underneath him.

"No!" he said desperately. He leapt to his feet, the first time he had moved since the conversation had begun. "No, Arthur, please!"

"The law is explicit. Magic is banned in Camelot on pain of death. I do not wish to see you executed, Merlin, no matter what you've done. The only option left to me is to banish you from the kingdom. You may return to Ealdor and live without fear of my persecution."

"NO! Arthur, please, if you can't accept me, then just kill me!"

This brought Arthur up short. He stared at Merlin, saw the desperation and the pain in his face and was shocked by it.

"What?"

"I told you that I dedicated my life to protecting you. I can't do that if I'm not here by your side. If you won't allow me to stay, then just kill me now, please." He was shaking again, tears threatening to spill over, but he held them in as best he could. He could see Arthur didn't understand. "If I go back to Ealdor, I won't be able to protect you. I'll have to live the rest of my life knowing that I left you unprotected and vulnerable, waiting for the news of your death and knowing I could have prevented it. I can't live that way, Arthur, I won't. If you have any mercy, just kill me now."

Arthur took a few steps back from him, looking absolutely staggered. He had always known that Merlin was loyal to a fault, but he would never have guessed at this level of devotion. He shook his head and ran his hands over his face, looking more tired and haggard than Merlin had ever seen.

"I don't want to kill you, Merlin," he admitted, sounding a little lost. "But if I can't kill you, and you won't leave, what do I do then? What am I supposed to do? It's not like I can just keep it a secret. It's probably all over the town by now. You're a sorcerer. The law says you are to be executed. I gave my word I wouldn't harm you, so you could leave without any trouble, but if you won't, what can I do with you? I can't just change the law."

"Why not?" Merlin demanded. Arthur looked at him again. The pain and confusion in his eyes made Merlin's heart ache, but he didn't look away. He held Arthur's gaze and stepped toward him. "Why not change the law?" Arthur shook his head.

"I can't change the law, Merlin. Magic is—"

"Magic is NOT EVIL!" Merlin found himself shouting, reaching the end of his rope. "I, of all people, should be proof of that. Magic is a tool, nothing more. It doesn't corrupt any more than any other type of power does. A sword can be used for good by a knight and for evil by a slave trader, can it not? Why should magic be held to a different standard? There are all types of men and there are all types of sorcerers. You've only had the misfortune of meeting the bad ones because those are the only ones who aren't willing to hide from you. Magic wasn't banned because sorcerers were attacking people, Arthur, they attack because it's banned. Magic-users hate you and your father because you've persecuted them. Life the ban and I guarantee you will eventually have peace between magical and non-magical peoples."

Arthur staggered back and sat heavily on his throne, dropping his head into his hands. Seeing his exhaustion and his distress, Merlin went to kneel in front of him again, dropping his voice to a quite supplication. He went so far as to put a hand on Arthur's knee, which made him start. He didn't push him away, though.

"Magic can be used to heal, Arthur. It can be used to repair things. It can be used to make crops grow. It can be used for so much good if only you would let it. Magic is a beautiful thing when used properly. I wish you could see that." Arthur didn't respond. Tentatively, Merlin raised his other hand and whispered something. A ball of light, ethereal and blue-white, appeared in his palm, casting a light glow over them. Arthur stared at it, his eyes widening in recognition.

"That was you?" he whispered. Merlin nodded. "But…how? You were unconscious. You were dying."

"I don't really know how," he admitted. "Gaius said I was thrashing around and talking as if I could see what you were doing, and then this appeared in my hand and I was urging you to follow it, to get out. Even on my death bed, Arthur, I was still protecting you. Still trying to help you. With magic."

Arthur spent some time watching the slowly spinning ball of light. He reached out to touch it and his hand went right through it. It was cool and pleasant to the touch and his hand came away glowing briefly before fading back to his normal skin tone. For a moment, the pain and frustration and hopelessness were gone from his face, replaced by a simple, childlike fascination at the beauty of the magic before him. He glanced up to meet Merlin's earnest and pleading eyes. He didn't look away when Merlin released the light and it faded away.

"Let me help you," Merlin whispered. Arthur opened his mouth, and closed it again. Merlin could see the warring emotions in his eyes. Fear, anger, futility, sadness, pain, betrayal, joy, fascination, awe, curiosity, and even hope flashed across his eyes in a few moments.

"Okay."

Merlin smiled and let his tears fall.


End file.
